Scarlet and Emerald
by ScaryElwes
Summary: From Day One they were supposed to hate each other. Different Houses, different social classes. It's practically expected of them. But loathing someone for no reason at all can take up a lot of energy. AU


**A/N: Do your eyes deceive you? Could it possibly be...a fresh Chainshipping tale? (For you slow ones out there, the answers are no and yes.) I've decided to take my own wack at teenage!Adam and Larry. But do I ever do things the normal way? (Again, the answer is no.) I know for a fact that this has never been done in the Saw realm before, therefore I am bristling with pride. I present to you, Adam and Lawrence in the world of Harry Potter! *jazz hands* Yes, I did it. What have I not ruined now, I ask you all? I couldn't help it, the need for something fresh was just too strong. Plus, who wants to turn down an image of our babies as sixteen-year-old Brits in school uniforms? (No one, is the correct answer.) So, I hope you all enjoy the wizard fruits of my labor. And don't forget the British accents! British accents, everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I apologize profusely to James, Leigh and Joanne for forcing their worlds to have sex and create this poor, disfigured baby. XD**

**Scarlet and Emerald**

"What do you think you're doing here?"

The question is spoken harshly, almost barked out. Its speaker stands rigidly in the doorway of the abandoned classroom, one hand gripping the frame. His other hand rests deep in his pocket, gripping his wand. Poised to attack. The person to whom the question was directed snaps his head up. Immediately, he stands from his seat on top of a desk, whipping his own wand out. He brandishes it defensively, aiming straight at his opponent's heart.

"I'm waiting for someone here," Adam retorts, just as cruelly. "So if you don't mind, you can get out of here and out of my sight."

Lawrence steps forwards, never once waning in his grip on his weapon.

"It just so happens that I'm here to wait for someone also. So if _you _don't mind…"

Adam scoffs, a corner of his mouth rising in a crude smirk. Lawrence watches the action as if it's in slow motion, feeling his blood start to boil.

_That _fucking _smirk._

"I don't know what makes you think you can just barge in here and tell me what to do, Gordon," Adam continues. If he notices Lawrence's inward struggle, he pretends not to take _too _much pride in it.

But really, on the inside, he is _erupting _at the triumph of evoking a reaction.

"You're one to talk, _Faulkner_."

And without consciously realizing it, the taller young man takes another step forward. Adam also advances, until there's only a foot of space between them.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I can do and say what I want. _Whatever _I want."

Lawrence rolls his eyes, theatrically. "Shut it."

Adam presses on, knowing he is reaching a dangerous peak.

"No really. I might even go as far as saying that I _own you_, Gordon. I have the money for it, anyway."

And he knows he's succeeded the moment Lawrence blanches.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I saw the way you were ogling at me in Transfiguration today. I swear you didn't look away once! I was almost afraid you were going to burn a hole in my head by the end of class!"

And Adam doesn't even have time to sneer before Lawrence grabs him by his tie, yanking him closer until they are inches apart. Both of their wands drop to the floor, two forgotten _thumps_ that are absorbed by the carpet.

Lawrence makes sure he has the smaller boy's full attention before speaking.

"I have _no idea_ what you are talking about. And neither do you," he grinds out, an angry shade of pink rising in his cheeks.

Their eyes are connected with each others, burning, blistering with the intensity of their gaze. Lawrence's Gryffindor tie grazes against Adam's Slytherin one, repeatedly doing so as both of their chests are suddenly heaving.

Crystal to grey, scarlet to emerald.

"Really?" Adam almost coos. His breath fans across the blonde's face, only serving to infuriate him more. "Say it again. Really look me in the eyes and _honestly_ tell me that that is true."

A tense pause then passes, the same length as a strained breath.

And then suddenly they're kissing, their mouths doing as their eyes do and melding against each other. But it isn't gentle at all. Far from it. It's pure teeth and lip and tongue, clashing together in one huge attack. Almost as if they actually are trying to hurt each other.

Although Adam tries his best, Lawrence easily gains dominance over his lanky body, pushing it roughly against the door of a nearby broom cupboard. As payback, the boy reaches up and dexterously loosens the bright red and gold tie, scratches his hands across his scalp and ruins the perfectly styled blonde hair. Anything to defile his image, his _ridiculously perfect_ image, if only for a few minutes.

Adam pulls away with a light _smack_. His breathing heavy, he leans in to press his mouth to Lawrence's ear.

"Is that all you've got? You expect me to take this, you _vile _mudblood?"

Lawrence _swears_, he can see red now.

With a small growl, Lawrence pushes Adam's chin up, still somehow managing to be gentle in his anger. He then gets to work on the Slytherin's neck. He starts out by taking Adam's pulse point into his mouth and sucking, leaving a flush, pink hickey. He feels, with relish, a strangled moan reverberate against his lips. And then, making sure to briefly meet the eyes above him, he starts to nibble and bite down on Adam's neck.

Harder. _Harder._

Because maybe, if he breaks the skin hard enough, he'll be able to draw blood. That rich, untainted, _pure_ wizard's blood that Adam prides himself so much on. And maybe, just _maybe_, if that treasured blood comes anywhere near him, it'll make him pure too.

Pureblooded. Just like Adam.

Said pureblood begins to squirm and writhe beneath him. It takes Lawrence much longer than it should to realize that it's in _pain_.

"You idiot, cut it out!" Adam whimpers.

The Gryffindor wavers, having never heard Adam's voice in this light. Weak. Almost afraid.

"Lawrence, please..."

His entire body freezes when he hears the Slytherin speak his name. His _first_ name. Something he hasn't heard leave Adam's mouth since..._never_.

The blonde's wavering gives Adam plenty of time to forcefully grab his chin and mash his lips to his.

And that's when everything goes back to normal. The two students go on with mauling each other just as aggressively as before, as if that brief lapse had never even occurred. This continues for only a few more minutes, until they're merely brushing their lips against each others, spent from the rage that has just coursed through their bodies.

Lawrence finally pulls away, leaning against a desk weakly and taking in huge gulps of air.

Silence fills the room.

Once Adam has opened his eyes, he sees that the Gryffindor has already fixed his appearance, the Head Boy facade back in place, with not a flyaway hair in sight.

He takes this as his cue to reach down and pick up his forgotten wand, not even bothering to fix his mussed hair and uniform. Because honestly, he doesn't feel the need to impress like Lawrence does.

And it's not like it looks any different than it did before.

Adam begins to head to the classroom door, barely aware of the very obvious fact that the both of them are trying to shake the same feeling.

Suddenly, Lawrence remembers something, and looks up.

"Hey Ada-...er, I mean Faulker?"

Adam turns, that ridiculously pompous smirk already plastered onto his face. But this time, Lawrence can't find it in himself to be so irritated with it.

"Yes, Gordon. Same time tomorrow, as usual."

And then the Slytherin boy leaves.

Lawrence remains for a long time, rolling his wand between his fingers and wondering just what exactly these sessions have become.

**Fin. **


End file.
